Lovin' Ain't Free
by bleedforyou
Summary: Flashes of the real world came to Draco's mind...He had dreamed that Harry was here to save him from all that—obviously, it was just a dream... slash. sexual nature. flangst. ewe. My rentboy!fic!


**Title:**Lovin' Ain't Free  
**Author:****bleedforyou1****  
****Pairing:**Harry/Draco  
**Rating:**R (For suggestion and language)  
**Beta:****vanessawolfie****  
****Summary:**Flashes of the _real world_ came to Draco's mind...He had dreamed that Harry was here to save him from all that—obviously, it was just a dream.  
**Word count:**1,000 exactly! *grins*  
**Warnings:**Slash. Sexual Nature. Angst with a fluffy touch to it ;)  
**Note:** This is written for my wonderful f-list, because you all rock hardcore. I'm sorry, I know it's extremely cliche, but I couldn't help it! Rentboy!Draco is one just too awesome to let go. 

"Draco?" Harry asked, placing soothing, small feather-light kisses down Draco's shoulder.

"Hmm," Draco hummed in contentment, pressing his back more firmly against Harry's chest and his face into his soft pillow.

"I…" Harry sighed behind him. _Oh, this is not going to be good_, Draco thought. "We've been inside this hotel room for the last three days, and don't misunderstand me—every single _second_ of the last three days have been like…like an amazing dream."

"But?" Draco asked, clenching his teeth in anxiety.

"But, I mean…I have to go to work tomorrow morning, and don't you think it's kind of time…to go back to the real world?"

Flashes of the _real world_ came to Draco's mind—standing against a cold brick wall in nothing but a flimsy t-shirt and tight trousers on, tricks coming by and treating him like a piece of shit, getting spit upon from upper society and being thrown money at after a painful fuck.

He had dreamed that Harry was here to save him from all that—obviously, it was just a dream.

"You're right, Potter. I have many clients that are probably wondering where I've gone. Tricks need their fucking too, you know?" Draco sat up, wincing as he rested his sore arse on the sheets. Harry had made good on at least one promise—he had fucked Draco so well, he was barely able to sit.

"Wait, what?" Harry asked from behind him. "You're going to go back to… that?"

"To _that_?" Draco scoffed, standing up and looking around for his clothes. "You can't even say it, can you, Golden Boy? I'm a rent boy. A prostitute—a fucking hole to use and a dick to share."

"But, why? I thought—"

"You thought _what_?" Draco asked fiercely, turning around as he wrenched his shirt on. "You thought I'd just leave my job for what? For you?"

"I just…thought that maybe you'd—you know, stay with me."

Harry looked at him like a fucking lost puppy, his green eyes wide and too damn _open_. Without his glasses, his eyes shined too bright for Draco.

"You can't just expect me to live off no money just to be your personal fuck, Potter," Draco spit out, cringing as he pulled his trousers on—damn but Potter knew how to make him sore.

"You wouldn't be my personal fuck, Draco!" This time he looked angry, getting out of bed as well.

"Then what _would_ I be? A token of lost causes? A new trophy to hang on your arm for the press—thanks, but no thanks."

"You're so—ugh!" Harry threw out his arms in frustration. "I hate that you still think that! I thought you would know by now, it isn't _like_ that for me!"

But Draco _did_ know. He knew Harry well enough since spending the last 35 hours with the man—not just fucking either. They had talked and laughed, shared stories and even cried a bit to each other.

"I'm still not going to give up a perfectly good job—"

"You call selling yourself for sex a good job?"

"It's the only way! Don't you get it, you idiotic Gryffindor? No one else will hire me! The Wizarding world hates me on basic instinct and I don't know anything about the Muggle world! I've searched for any other way—what the hell do you think I've been doing for the last three years since the War?"

Harry crossed his arms. "I can _find_ you a job, Draco. A real one—where you don't have to lay back and take it for a damn galleon."

"Laying back and taking it is worth more than a galleon, Potter. You should know; you owe me many by now…"

"You—what? You've been charging me?" Harry's eyes widened and Draco saw hurt flash through them in the worst way.

"Obviously. I know you can afford me. Isn't that what you said when I kept denying you on the street? _I'll pay you so much you won't be able to say no_."

"That was in the heat of the moment and I already apologized for that. I'm not going to pay you for the last three days, Draco—I was _not_ a customer! I was—we were—"

"We were _what_?" Draco hissed. "You thought we were something? What, _boyfriends_? I don't do boyfriends, Potter."

"Tell me I mean more to you than a lousy trick. Tell me the last few days have not just been about you collecting money!"

"Why should I lie?" Draco responded—and the second he said it, he knew it was the biggest lie ever. Harry walked over to him, his face flushed.

"Say it. Look right into my eyes and _say_that I don't mean anything to you."

Draco looked up into Harry's eyes—they just had too much raw emotion in them.

"I—you mean _so_ much more than a—" Draco stopped when he realized what he had said instead of the lie he was preparing for. "I mean—that's not what I meant to say!"

Harry grinned fiercely. "I knew it. You're a horrible liar, Draco Malfoy."

"No, no, that's not what I meant! I don't want to be with you, Harry!" Draco was protesting as Harry pulled him closer, lining their bodies up again.

"Look at that, Draco…" Harry whispered, putting his finger to Draco's lips. "We match so perfectly. Like puzzle pieces…"

"No…" Draco shook his head, his eyes watering. "This isn't real…"

"Trust me, Draco. That's all I'm asking—just _trust me_."

Draco just _couldn't_. He couldn't trust anyone after the world had chewed him up and spit him out. He wasn't given a second chance—until _now_. Was Harry his second chance?

"I…okay." Draco nodded quietly. Harry carried him over to the bed, pulling off his clothing as if he had never put it on in the first place.

They left the hotel room a while later, partially sated both in lust and hope.


End file.
